A Flower of a Different Kind
by Abielle-a-Miel
Summary: Petunia just wants to enjoy a simple, peaceful afternoon. A simple, peaceful *life*. This plan is thrown completely off course when a peculiar man knocks on her door. A magical man... SnapexPetunia ship - Crack Pairing
1. The Inspector

**Chapter 1: The Inspector  
**

The wizard's robes billowed in the wind as he stood firm and rigid like a post, his dark eyes glowering like laser pointers on a locale and flashing back to a memory he'd wished to never revisit. This quiet, simple house in this simple, quiet neighbourhood: _number 4 Privet Drive._

'So this is the place?' he snarled. _'Can't wait_ to get this over with.'

* * *

Petunia Dursley had finally finished her round of chores for the morning and was poised for relaxation. Her husband, Vernon Dursley, had already long left for work since morning, leaving her to her own devices. She quite liked the house when it was quiet, as she could arrange all her furnishings so that they were _just so_. Neat. Orderly. Not a thing out of place. Not a speck on the floor. Not a smudge on the counters. Not a single ounce of dust on the upholstery. She let out a sigh. It was time for afternoon tea, and she had begun to prepare a hefty pot. As the kettle slowly came to a boil, she flicked through the television channels in search of her favourite afternoon program: _Downton Abbey_. Yes. This was certainly her kind of day.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and she wrinkled her nose in agitation. Who was this person who dared obstruct her peace?

She made her way to the door all the while grumbling under her breath. She smoothed the folds in her dress, making sure she was presentable, and then she opened it.

 _What a ghastly sight_. A rather tall, sallow-skinned man stood before her. She noted the way his unkempt hair slicked over his ears and extended to his shoulders, a stray fringe of hair sweeping slightly over his brow. He was dressed all in black— _robes_ to be exact. She frowned deeply, overwhelmed with disgust.

'Can I help you?' she asked, praying that he had mistakenly knocked on the wrong door.

'Perhaps,' he intoned in a drawling manner, peering edgily over her shoulder. 'May I come in?'

Petunia's eyebrows shot up, forcing several layers of creases to form on her forehead. 'I beg your pardon?'

The man's black eyes shifted to meet hers as he gave a severe frown. 'It would be the polite thing to do… when you have a guest, to invite them in.'

Petunia was taken aback, flabbergasted by the man's brashness. But, she could see in the distance one of her neighbours passing, peering over with interest. Well, she couldn't have them _talk_ could she? What if they noticed this strange man at her door for such a _prolonged_ period of time? She could only imagine the neighbourly gossip. _She could only imagine Vernon's reaction_. She gasped audibly and beckoned the man to enter. "Right you are. Do come in," she said affirmably.

* * *

Severus entered, clutching at the hems of his black robe sleeves. His eyes darted about the house, taking everything's meticulous arrangement. The place was brighter, and cleaner than he was comfortable with. But he appreciated the organization. _He supposed_. He lowered his eyes, watching as the woman grabbed a pot of tea, and showed him to a seat at the table. She poured some for them both.

'Do you take sugar in your tea? Or milk?' she asked.

 _'_ Black…is fine,' he uttered sharply, his stare unrelenting on her. He watched as her hand rattled while she poured, and from her hands his gaze followed up, along her thin, gangling arms, up to her face. He took in her sharp features. She looked at him suddenly, her gaunt, horse-like mug not at all made prettier, softened or aided by her wisps of ash blond hair. Her right eye twitched.

'Alright. I let you in and you've got your tea. Now tell me who you are and why the _devil_ you're here, at this house of all houses,' she seethed.

Severus was unfazed by her anger, and maintained his unwavering stare. 'You don't know who I am, do you?'

'Well I do believe I bloody well said so, didn't I?' Petunia scoffed, placing two stiff hands on her narrow hips.

Severus frowned, pulling a small parcel out from his robe pocket and placing it on the table. 'Dumbledore gave me a task. To bring you whatever _this_ is.'

Petunia's eyes bulged from her skull like tennis balls, and she plunged frantically into the chair. 'D-Dumbledore? You're—You're one of _them_?' She was clearly horrified, her voice lowering to a shrill hiss as though someone from the neighbourhood was standing by the windows to eavesdrop. "Of course! I should have known!"

Severus groaned, fingers tensing as they gripped his teacup handle. 'You have no idea who I am? Really?' he narrowed his eyes. 'The name's Snape. Severus Snape.'

Petunia recoiled, pulling back so quickly she splashed her tea across the table. Severus glared at the puddle as it threatened to pool under the parcel.

* * *

Petunia quickly grabbed a stray rag and mopped away the spill. 'Y-You're that disgusting boy from _Cokesworth_ , aren't you? Yes, I ruddy well remember now. _Lily's_ friend.'

He was their seedy-looking neighbour with a revolting reputation. As she rung out the cloth, Petunia looked up from the table and saw as the man's dark eyes suddenly reflected something of anger, and something of sadness.

But he didn't show it in his tone as he spoke calmly. 'And you're her rather _untalented_ sister, Petunia Evans.'

 _'Dursley._ It's _Petunia Dursley_ now,' Petunia spat, turning to drop the wet cloth in the sink. 'And the word you're looking for is _normal_.'

'Right.'

She spun around in a rage and pointed a finger at him. 'Not right at all! I will be damned if some stranger, let alone— _a freak_ —like _you_ —comes _out of nowhere_ and disrespects me in _my own home_ —'

Petunia's rant was suddenly cut off by a shuffling sound. Petunia and Severus turned as the boy descended down the staircase, his unruly black hair barely masking his unsightly scar. He looked absolutely bewildered, bringing a hand up to his nose to steady his spectacles. The room fell silent as he looked between his aunt, then his professor, then his aunt again.

'Should I even bother to ask?' he said.

Petunia scowled. She had forgotten that _the boy_ was home.

'I don't believe anyone invited your input, _Potter_ ,' Severus sneered. Petunia snapped her head towards the man, absolutely stunned. She could detect the negative energy that passed between them.

'Whatever.' Unwilling to endure the obvious tension, Harry continued to the base of the stairs and crossed the room, making his way to the front door. 'I'm going. I'll be back later.' The door opened and closed with a slam.

Petunia still had her mouth hanging ajar, eyes darting between the door and Severus. 'Odd. You don't seem fond of the boy,' she said confusedly.

'That's putting it mildly,' snorted Severus, finally taking a sip from his teacup.

'Is…is that so?' Petunia looked in a daze as she poured a fresh serving of tea into her newly empty cup.

Severus raised a brow. 'Surprised?'

Petunia shrugged, feigning indifference. 'I thought your lot—well, I mean it would be quite sensible to assume that you all… _well you know_ —since you both have got …er, _magic_ and all,' she had struggled to say the last part, and her mouth contorted oddly as though she had bit into a lemon.

Severus' mouth formed a slimy smile. 'I'll be honest. The boy _disgusts_ me.'

Petunia set down her cup, placing a hand on her chest. 'Oh, dear me! I feel the same way!'

Severus crossed his arms, offering a cynical gaze. 'But, you're his aunt?'

Petunia cleared her throat, lightly patting her blond head. 'Well, that's neither here nor there, is it? Just a _favour_ to my sister, I suppose. We're the only family he's got, really.'

Severus' expression hardened. 'Ah, your sister…'

'Lily,' Petunia said, as though he needed reminding.

No one spoke, and the room gave way to an awkward silence again. For some odd reason, Petunia felt mildly embarrassed and opted to shift the discussion away from Lily. Well, _only slightly._

'You know, he just looks so much like his father,' she started, swirling gently at her tea with a spoon. 'That _awful_ man.'

Severus frowned deeply, and his eyes were lit like flames. _'James Potter,'_ he spat, as though he spoke of the Devil himself.

Petunia felt a sudden wave of intrigue. 'You knew him?'

Severus sneered, 'Of course I knew that…conceited, _obnoxious_ …'

'Good for nothing, low-down, filthy…' Petunia added.

'Arrogant, pretentious…' Severus continued.

'BASTARD!' They both had shouted at once.

The two fell into a lingering stare.

'You feel the same way?' Severus said quietly in awe.

'I thought nobody could ever understand,' Petunia responded, dropping her hands to her sides.

'I've never felt such a connection to a mere _Muggle_ before,' Severus said, gazing rather intently into her eyes.

'I never thought I could hear that word and not feel offended,' Petunia noted, leaning in.

Why hadn't she seen it sooner? Suddenly that pale, ghastly face was beginning to look strangely handsome, and even that gigantic hooked nose, protruding unashamedly like a toucan's beak seemed like a rather _attractive_ feature. She regarded that deep mark, the crater between his brows, his frown-line. He was manly, alluring and striking, like only the strictest drill sergeant. And something about that serious, no-nonsense tone of voice, like a fog horn—it commanded respect. He was _nothing_ like that purple-faced, moustached, balding, greying tub of lard she had married. He was... _magical_.

* * *

Severus saw the look in her eyes. He couldn't recall the last time, or if ever, a woman had looked at him that way. He felt something arise within him.

Petunia shifted suddenly, clearly anxious. Her slender lips curled strangely. 'You know, my um, husband… _Vernon_ …'

Severus felt his heart sink, but only slightly. 'Ah, yes. _Him_.'

'…He won't be home for a while, so uh. You know. I mean, if you wanted to…' she trailed off.

Snape was a skilled _Legilimens_. He knew exactly what she was thinking, and incidentally, he was thinking the same. 'Yes. Yes I do.'

This horse-faced, stick-thin, giraffe-necked, hay-haired woman.

She wasn't Lily.

But she would do.

The two instantly grabbed each other's hands, sniggering giddily like rebelling teenagers as they made their way up the stairs to the Master Bedroom.

'Oh, Severus…' she moaned, bony fingers gripping and clawing at his back.

'Oh, Petunia…' Severus mumbled back, one hand raking through her horse-hay hair and the other on her bony back.

'You have such…such busy hands,' she said breathlessly, but elatedly as he fumbled with her brassiere straps.

'Well, yes, I'm a master of many things, other than just potions it would seem,' Severus uttered, his heart ploughing through his chest.

Suddenly a door slammed.

'MA! I'M HOME,' shouted a voice from down the stairs.

Severus withdrew as Petunia stiffened like a plank of wood. 'OH—D-DUDDERS! UM…Y-YOU'RE HOME EARLY?' she screamed down the stairs.

'YEAH, WELL THE BOYS AND I FELT IT WAS TOO HOT OUT. WHAT'S FOR SUPPER? I'M HUNGRY,' the boy shouted back.

Petunia hastily zippered up the back of her dress, feeling flustered. 'Oh-y-yes, _darling_! Will be down…in-in a minute.'

Once Severus had finished buttoning up the front of his robes, he clumsily followed Petunia back down the stairs and into the den. A fat boy with a fat rosy-cheeked face and wisps of ash blond hair stared back at him with tiny, piggy eyes. Severus frowned. Damn. That boy sure was _fat._

The boy didn't seem too fond of Severus either, for before he would even acknowledge his own mother, he leered at him. "Who's this prat?"

'Now, Dudley, mind your manners,' Petunia scolded, though curiously meek in tone.

The boy didn't look too bright, but he continued to direct a distrustful stare at Severus. 'Does Dad know he's here?'

Again. Another awkward silence. Petunia laughed nervously. It was a pain to the ear.

'Don't be silly, Duddykins. This is just the—uh—inspector. Right? Mr. Snape? _Inspector_ Snape?' Petunia nudged Severus' arm with her elbow, as she gave him a pressing stare.

The black-haired wizard pursed his lip. He had almost forgotten he was in the midst of _Muggles_ again. He supposed he'd have to play this game. 'Inspection. Right. Everything is…in _working order_.' He glanced at Petunia and their eyes locked. She grinned, her cheeks blooming red as though stained with beet juice.

* * *

'Inspector? Inspector of what?' Dudley persisted, clearly still sceptical of the whole affair. If only he knew. It was literally… _an affair_.

'Yes, well, I best be going,' Severus said at last, turning swiftly for the door.

'Allow me to see you out.' Petunia followed after him, leaving her hapless son behind in the den. He seemed to finally give way to indifference as he shrugged and headed for the refrigerator.

The two stood at the entrance where it had all begun _._ Severus on the outside, prepared to leave; Petunia on the inside, not quite ready to shut the door.

'Well, I suppose this is…good-bye?' Severus said finally.

'Yes, well…' Petunia lowered her eyes. 'I…suppose. I mean, it really doesn't _have to be_ —'

'Your husband will be home any moment. _Vernon_ , I believe he's named?' Severus said, noting the slightest setting of the sun.

Petunia hesitated for a moment, then nodded weakly 'Of course. Right. _Him_.'

Severus smiled. 'It was nice seeing you.'

Petunia didn't say anything as he walked away. She knew what he was going to do. He was going to disappear into thin air like those magic-folk always did. She noticed the street was clear, so she opted to take the chance.

'Don't be a stranger—" _Inspector"._ ' Petunia called after him.

Severus half-turned, with his large nose the focal point of his profile and his greasy hair that was much too limp to blow romantically in the wind. He still looked dazzling against the orange sky. To Petunia anyway.

'Never was a stranger,' he said.

And with a swish of his robe, the man was off, walking briskly until he disappeared into the sunset.


	2. The Package

**Chapter 2: The Package**

It was another quiet evening at number 4 Privet Drive. Well, with the exception of the usual ranting and raving of Vernon Dursley. He had just settled in from a long day at work, and so naturally, he begun a long-winded banter about the latest in drill-making technology, and how the 'idiots' he was forced to manage at Grunnings had no real appreciation for it. Petunia and Dudley (though more the former than the latter) leant an ear to his ramblings (being the only others who sat at the dinner table), occasionally giving polite nods between chews, grunts of acknowledgement or the oh-so-obligatory, 'Is that so?' and 'Oh, I see.'

'I tell you — some people these days have no appreciation. None _whatsoever_ , I say! You know what I think it is? It must be the generation gap! The kids just don't have the proper work ethic anymore. Why, in _my_ day…'

Petunia tuned out, no longer bothering to listen as she robotically passed the peas across the table, and then poured herself a glass of white wine. She even overlooked the way bits of food dotted Vernon's thick, black moustache like a well-worn feather duster. She looked away in disgust, down at her food, then busied herself with slicing into some roast beef. Petunia barely noticed when Vernon had finally stopped speaking, but she became alert to him as he coughed jarringly. She looked up from her plate with a start.

'What's _that_?' Vernon asked suddenly.

'What's what?' Petunia paused, knife and fork in hand, following his gaze to see what had drawn his attention.

'The package,' Vernon uttered, his tiny eyes trained on a small, but conspicuous-looking parcel that had been set aside on a wooden side table.

A startled Petunia felt her jaw slacken, and face drain of all colour. _She had forgotten all about it._

'Oh this? This is, um…' she began weakly, raking her thoughts for a good lie.

'The inspector!'

Petunia and Vernon turned to Dudley, who had suddenly spoken on his mother's behalf.

Vernon frowned. 'What?'

Dudley carried on, bits of newly minced peas tumbling visibly in his mouth like a cud-chewing cow.

'The inspector. _He_ brought it! I bet I'm right. He did, didn't he, Mum?' He gave his mother a pressing stare.

Vernon's frown deepened. He glanced suspiciously between Dudley and his wife. 'What inspector? Inspector of _what_?'

Petunia offered a light, dismissive chuckle, 'Now, Diddyums…'

Dudley didn't relent. Rather, he spoke ardently with the gusto of a raging steam engine.

'That man with the black dress! He was here earlier — _Inspector Snape!'_

A look of bewilderment and restrained irritation was transparent on Vernon's purple face as his brows shot up to his thinning hairline.

'Inspector… Snape,' he said with a slow, uncharacteristically measured tone. His eyes shifted from Dudley as he leered at Petunia. 'A dress?'

At that instant, the front door opened and slammed shut. The three jumped in their seats as Harry walked in, kicking his trainers off at the door. Petunia thanked her good fortune, never imagining in her entire lifetime she would be as eager for the sudden presence of her nephew as she was now; particularly since his narrow frame was as hopelessly untidy and dishevelled-looking as ever.

Vernon's eyes narrowed. He had found a new target for his brewing anger.

'Where the devil have you been, boy?'

'None of your business,' Harry retorted, trudging boldly by the dining table, then up the stairs.

'NONE OF MY—? WHAT NERVE—! PETUNIA DID YOU _HEAR_ HIM?' Vernon had finally unleashed, his fat fingers forming vein-ridden fists that he lashed against the table.

Petunia frowned noticing the way the drinking glasses rattled. She gave a single nod in agreement. 'Of course! Rude as usual. What more could we expect? Not like our _ickle Diddilypoo_. Such a perfect angel, right, Diddlykins?' She turned to Dudley with a thin-lipped smile.

Dudley knitted his brows. 'What about the pack—'

Petunia cut him off, shoving a fork into his mouth. 'Here, more potatoes, darling.'

'It's time we've let that one go, if you ask me,' Vernon grumbled, directing a murderous glare towards the staircase.

'Now Venon,' Petunia said calmly, feeling a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

'Well, he's got his godfather now, doesn't he? He's already made THAT point clear!' Vernon spat loudly and with emphasis, as though Harry were still somewhere around, secretly listening.

The meal continued on in silence, while Vernon angrily dug into his asparagus.

* * *

Petunia lay awake in bed that night. The sound of Vernon's snores were more insufferable than usual and his occasional snorts between every harsh vibration were more than she could bear. Groaning with agitation, Petunia slipped from under the covers and got to her feet, sliding her toes into a pair of slippers.

She crept through the hall and down the stairs, draping her dressing gown over her back. She felt along the wall to flick on a light switch, relieving herself of the kitchen's darkness. She helped herself to a cup of water. She sipped slowly. As she peered around she spotted the parcel from Dumbledore, still sitting on the wooden side table, untouched. Intrigued, Petunia placed down her cup to hobble over and retrieve it. She peeled back the paper.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as she unsheathed a small, framed photograph of two young girls. One was thin with wispy blond hair. That girl grinned, revealing crooked, over-sized teeth, but she appeared happy nonetheless as her arm slung over a younger girl. The younger girl was prettier with long, coppery hair. She and Lily as children. Lily must have been no older than 10 in this picture. This was before they'd stopped talking. Before Hogwarts.

As Petunia pulled the photo out fully from the packaging, a folded piece of paper drifted out. She placed down the photo and unravelled the paper.

 _Mrs. Petunia Dursley,_

 _I understand you are not fond of Owl Post. As such, I hope that my method in delivering this parcel to you was, though unconventional, of satisfactory means. Mr. Snape is a trusted messenger who I suspect will be in your good graces._

 _This enclosed photo was a remaining artefact from the Potter family home. There is a fascinating story behind where it's been all these years, but that's best left for another day. I presume you might want it. I trust that you will treasure it as Lily always had._

 _Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore_

A tear glided down Petunia's cheek as she brought a hand over her mouth. She felt something, a peculiar feeling tug at her insides in a way it hadn't in a long time. She sniffed.

'Lily…'


	3. The Burden

**Chapter 3: The Burden**

Two mornings had passed since Petunia had seen the contents of the package. Two mornings since she had been visited by the ' _inspector'_. As usual, she was carrying out her chores: cleaning and folding laundry. The house was empty as Vernon was at work and the boys were gone. Dudley had set off to have tea with his lovely friends. Harry…well, who cared really where he went. Point was, he wasn't there sneaking around and up to mischief. She only hoped he wasn't displaying his unsightly appearance for the world to see and drawing unnecessary attention by doing something foolish. Last thing she needed was all of Little Whinging to be talking about the Dursley family and their 'mad nephew' from 'St. Brutus'.

By noon, Petunia had managed to finish everything but supper and she had become quite bored. Oddly enough, she was less content and satisfied than usual. This house she usually loved having all to herself was quieter and lonelier than ever. After removing and putting away her rubber gloves, Petunia found herself a comfortable spot in the sitting room and flicked through television channels. _Downton Abbey_ was on hiatus so she didn't know what to watch. She had gone through every channel at least three times until she finally settled on the BBC.

It was a slow news day.

After feigning interest in a story about a welsh terrier winning a gold medal for its heroism, she decidedly headed for the cellar to seek out a bottle of wine. Not just any wine, but the fancy wine usually reserved for visits from her sister-in-law, Marge. She searched the kitchen for a corkscrew, but couldn't seem to find one. Growing desperate and frustrated, she snatched up a butter knife and fought with the bottle cork, prying it open. The cork flew out with a loud pop. Grinning satisfactorily and eagerly, she then grabbed a wineglass and began to pour.

Without warning, there came a ear-splitting crack like the lash of a horse whip.

Petunia screamed shrilly, dropping her wineglass to the floor. She spun around and faltered back, clutching her chest as though attempting to prevent her heart from plunging right through it.

Standing there was that greasy-haired, hook-nosed wizard: Severus Snape.

Petunia's mouth lulled open, her bottom lip quivering. 'Y-You!'

'I believe the proper response is, "Good Afternoon",' Severus said in a cool drawl.

He placed a hand on his hip as he stared disapprovingly at the shards of glass scattered across the kitchen floor. 'I suppose I should do something about this, then?'

With a swish of his wand, the pieces of glass shot up and reassembled themselves into its previously unbroken state. The wineglass then landed gently on the kitchen counter. Severus returned his attention to Petunia, regarding her with a blank stare. 'I'm just here to follow up… on the package, of course.'

Petunia gaped in a stupor, still slightly out of breath. 'What's wrong with you people? C-Couldn't you knock?'

Snape frowned. 'It would be rather problematic for the neighbours to notice my return. Wouldn't you agree?'

Petunia nodded weakly. All things considered, she decided having a visit from this man was the most interesting thing that was going to happen that day.

'Very well,' she conceded, clearing her throat. 'Would you fancy a glass of wine?'

Severus shrugged. 'I suppose.'

The two sat calmly at the kitchen table. Petunia had downed at least two glasses while Severus scarcely touched his. Wine wasn't his preferred drink, clearly. But Petunia didn't dwell on this. She was still a bundle of nerves, and her wine was relieving her tension.

'So you came about the photo,' she mumbled. 'You know, I barely escaped having to explain it to Vernon—where the package came from.'

'I see,' Severus responded stoically. 'So it was a photo, was it?'

'Yes. Lily's. A photo of the two of us,' Petunia said in a solemn tone. 'To think after all this time she was keeping that sort of thing.'

'You two weren't close?' Severus asked, seeming curious.

'Well, before Hogwarts we were very close. I guess things were strained after she got that acceptance letter; but, it really fell apart when she met James Potter.' Petunia sighed, resting her glass on the table. She glanced back at Severus, certain malice in her tone. 'He ruined _everything_.'

Severus had a gloomy look in his eyes. 'That blasted Potter. He _most_ _certainly_ ruined everything.'

Petunia let out a snort. 'Ha! Imagine living with his miniature clone! I tell you, it's like a bloody _curse_.'

Severus nodded emphatically. 'Oh, no need to tell me. I can only imagine what a nightmare it is living day-to-day with that _child_ creeping around the place. Then he has the audacity to look at you with _those eyes_ all the while possessing James' _wretched body_ and penchant for _overconfidence_.'

'That's not even the half of it. The _twit_ also mentioned that this criminal—this "Black"—is his godfather now. Imagine that?' Petunia recalled the horrid fellow's mug shot all over the news last summer.

'Ugh. _Sirius Black_. To think I was so _close_ to doing away with that pompous nuisance once and for all,' Severus spat bitterly.

Petunia stared, stunned by his admission. 'Wait—you almost rid of that dirty, shaggy-haired convict?'

Snape sneered. 'Almost. Until that _twit_ got in the way….'

Petunia smiled, elated that _'twit'_ seemed to be an unspoken, agreed-upon euphuism for Harry now. She continued on, the liquor kicking in and driving her to speak more candidly.

'Alas, that twit always gets in the way. And he has no idea. Why, he boldly says and does whatever he wants! He hasn't the faintest clue that _we're_ the ones keeping him alive, has he? _We're_ the ones standing between him and certain death from his parents' _murderer!'_

* * *

Severus blanched.

The Dursleys were protecting Harry?

This wasn't something Dumbledore ever disclosed to him but of course it made sense; it was the _Bond of Blood_ charm. Living with Harry Potter really was a literal 'curse' after all.

'Yes,' Severus murmured. 'I too have to protect him against the murderer.'

Severus was forced to protect the twit, acting as double-agent against the Dark Lord. In the end, everything was all about or for Harry. Everything was for the _Twit-Who-Lived._

'Really? Why do _you_ do it?' Petunia asked, eyes wide with interest.

'Truthfully, only because he's got Lily's eyes.' Severus pursed his lips, realising he really couldn't reveal _that._ He cleared his throat and clarified, 'Well, I mean. Lily and I were good friends and all—once. So, you know, it's just a favour, really. To a dear… _friend_.'

Petunia regarded him strangely for a moment. She then appeared dismissive as she took a casual sip of her wine. 'Fascinating. The things we do for Lily…'

'Yes. Lily…' Snape uttered quietly.

Petunia looked at him, a glint in her eyes. 'I never thought anyone else had to share this unwilling burden of protecting him. You understand completely.' Her thin lips drew into an alluring smile.

Yes. _This_ smile was alluring. _And these eyes were too._ In fact, they _somewhat_ looked like Lily's, didn't they?

Snape smiled back. He quirked his eyebrows suggestively. 'Yes. I understand the burden well. But what I _don't_ understand is my wild attraction to you.'

Petunia placed down her glass with a clunk. 'Oh, hush up and kiss me, already!'

The two ensnared each other, arms flailing and necks entangling as they divulged into an intense moment of passion. The scrambled their way throughout the kitchen, then the sitting room, tugging at the other's garments as they found their way to the couch.

'Oh, Severus…' Petunia exhaled, boney fingers gripping at his back.

'Oh, Lily….' Severus mumbled back, a hand raking through her horse-hay hair and the other on her boney back.

'WHAT?'

Severus was shoved violently backwards. Panic crossed his face. 'Oh! I—er, well—'

Petunia's face was mangled in rage. 'Did you just say "Lily"? _LILY?'_

Severus searched his mind for a proper response. 'Well—er—it's a _flower_ and, of course, _you're_ a flower, a _different_ kind—certainly—but you see—'

'GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!' Petunia hollered whilst pointing furiously at the front door.

Severus grimaced, adjusting his black robes and smoothing his hair. How dare she kick HIM out? Didn't she know who he was? Why, he was the Half-Blood Prince!

'Hmph! I don't even _need_ the door, you vile woman!'

With a poof, the wizard made his departure yet again.


	4. The Twit (Part 1)

**Chapter 4: The Twit**

The month of August had at last come to a quiet, peaceful end and the summer holidays along with it. All things related to warmer months of sunshine and leisure had been put away and the preparations for a bustling, busy new season began. Petunia gave a small sniff as she watched her dear son try on his school uniform, which had become a bit snug in the waist area.

'My Dudderdoo has grown so much,' she sighed whimsically, wiping a way a tear. 'Halfway through secondary school already!'

Dudley offered a mild grunt in response as Harry passed, entering into the kitchen in an oversized top that used to belong to his cousin. 'Yup, he's grown plenty.' Harry grumbled under his breath.

'What did you say?' Petunia snapped.

'Nothing,' Harry muttered as he stepped towards the counter, picked up a slice of already-made toast and began buttering it.

'That's what I thought.' Petunia glared as she ran a hot iron over the creases in her son's shirt. She forced a smile. 'Now Duddle-bop, we'll be going to the Sussex' tomorrow morning, bright and early, to buy you a new pair of trousers.'

'Sure.' Dudley bobbed his shoulders. 'Can I go now?'

'May I,' Petunia corrected. 'Yes, you may.' She sighed, watching as Dudley's form disappeared around the corner. School was in a week's time. It made sense that he wanted to enjoy at least a small bit of time with his little friends until then. She averted her gaze towards Harry whose back was to her. Her eyes narrowed. Thankfully, he'd be gone soon as well. Off to that horrid far-off clown school. As though feeling her eyes on him, he turned suddenly to face her. Those eyes. Those green eyes. Against her will, she was reminded of Lily. As she was reminded of Lily she thought of that disgusting Snape. Severus Snape.

'What?' Harry asked curtly, a mug and saucer with two slices of buttered toast in his hands.

Petunia, snapping out of her daze, returned her attention to the ironing board. 'How dare you ask me "what", you disrespectful boy.'

She didn't look up again and forced herself to ignore the sound of his footsteps trudge by until they faded away behind her.

* * *

 _ **Note:** I know what you're saying. Why is this chapter so short? It's just a partial chapter I wrote to get back into the swing of things since I left this poor fic on hiatus for, you know, a year. LOL. So what do you think so far? Anyway. Hopefully I can continue this sooner rather than later._

 _Until then, I bid adieu!_


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